His Peaceful Oblivion
by TuckerCraig
Summary: "I'd love to say 'I wish this wasn't happening to me right now', but truth is their beginning to slowly kick in. I can feel the muscles in my back and arms relaxing slowly." Stan just wants to find a way out, or answers at least. Drug abuse, Implied Character Death. Style and Implied Crenny.


_Dear whoever the hell it may be is reading this,_ I was taught to be formal when starting a letter, 'try to sound polite' and all that bullshit.

Hi. Uh —_shit... _I was never good at starting things off. Whatever, fuck it here I go. Hello again, my name is Stanley Randall Marsh (real beautiful name, don't get me started) but everybody I know, with the exception of my Mom calls me Stan. I still don't know why I'm wasting my time with this asshole pen (that keeps running out of ink, then magically fucking working forty five seconds later) and piece of lined paper I ripped from my notebook. Oh right, a proper _'goodbye'_. I don't really suppose it's all going to matter though, but I assure you, **we'll get to that in time.**

I guess I apologize if my handwriting may seem kind of sloppy and hard to read, I'm in a rush and I'm not really taking my sweet time to write this all out. I just want to get all my thoughts out onto this damn paper, so you at least have some sort of understanding as to what is going through my head at this very moment. My wrist is beginning to cramp slightly and I don't think I'm even half way through this letter. The time is 4:29 PM and the date is... _Christ, I don't even know what the fucking date is._ I know that it's for sure a Thursday, because I got off school two hours ago and I walked home by myself. Nobody's home of course, Shelly is at the mall with all her damn friends and _I bet you, _I swear on my life that their all sitting at a big table in the food court and drinking a smoothie or some shit, talking, not even doing anything. _Just sitting there._ Maybe if she knew what I've done she might care, maybe she would rush home in tears and tell me I'll be alright, even though we both know I won't be.. _Hah, yeah right. _Besides Shelly, there would be my parents, and both of them are at _work._

I remember being Ten, it honestly wasn't that long ago, 7 and a half years, it seems like it was just _a few days ago_. Being diagnosed with Cynicism is… _difficult._ I'll walk down the halls at school, and from all angles I'll see shit. I find that enlightening, to think that in 'lesser' terms, People are shit and their shitty, all in general. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not some high class queen bitch of the school with everybody below me, like some of you _lovely_ folks make me out to be. I'm not the 'most popular and liked boy in the whole school', if you're trying to find him, then you're going to want to talk to Clyde Donovan. Look, my point is I don't like being a cynical asshole, _why the hell would I like it?_ It's shitty. And it's not like I can help it, believe me, _I've tried._ Did you know that the only way I can even remotely turn down my cynicism is drinking? Oh, you didn't? What's that, you didn't know that the reason I'm usually in a foul mood? What even is a hangover? I mean… _Why should I even have to deal with all of this, all this stress, all this pressure of doing good and being good?_ _**Maybe, just maybe, all I'm looking for is just a way out.**_ _A fucking answer is __all__ I need._

(At this point your probably just a _little _overly curious. You probably have that feeling in the deep pit of your stomach that something _**dark and unforgettable **_is going to, or has _already happened.)_ Well princess, I wish to say that it hasn't, but I would be lying._ And_ _we don't have time for lying here_. This is for real real and not for play play. It seems like a Peaceful way to kill one's self, overdose, Wikipedia defines it as 'the ingestion or application of a drug or other substance in quantities greater than are recommended, an overdose may result in a toxic state or death'. _I'd love to say 'I wish this wasn't happening to me right now', _but truth is their beginning to slowly kick in. I can feel the muscles in my back and arms relaxing slowly, and I just noticed that my wrist doesn't hurt any more. I feel really good, fuck, _I missed being high. _Your probably wondering what my death cocktail is concocted of. To answer that question, I took all of the Lithium and Oxycontin we had in the medicine cabinet, and hey, since we're all here confessing things I should probably mention I also slipped the last four or five pills of my father's Diazepam (Valium). After I finish this damned letter I'll probably slink away to my bed, where I'll spend my last minutes touching myself to my super best friend, the boy I can never have. I'll proceed to do so until my eyes get too heavy to keep open, and after that _I shall slip into my peaceful oblivion. —From here on, I'm going to say my personal goodbyes, to my loved ones._

_Mom, Dad. I Love you both, with all my heart. I just want you to know (because I know both of you are thinking it), you __**didn't fail**__ as a parent, if anything I failed as a son. I couldn't live up to anybody's standards and expectations. Please don't grieve heavily over my death; it's just a brief ending to my useless existence._

_Kenny, you know what dude? You are one of the coolest fucking kids I know around, and you are definitely one of the most attractive. I don't really know how you're going to react to my perish; I at least hope you think about me when you take a shot at the next party you go to. Bye the way, I hope you and Craig are happy together, you still owe me by the way.. I guess we can discuss it in hell next time you drop by, I love you dude. _

_Kyle; I'm sorry if I disappointed you. I'm sorry I didn't bother to call, didn't bother to tell you how I've been feeling lately. Kyle I didn't want to say goodbye to you in person, but I do want you to know that you __**were **__the last person I saw, and that your smile was the only thing I've ever found beautiful in life, the only thing that wasn't shit to me. When I said I didn't want to say goodbye to you in person it was because I didn't want to see the slight ounce of pain and anxiety flash through your face, I didn't want to see you trembling, I didn't want to see the tears that you might have spilled. Kyle, before I end this letter, end my life, I need you to know that I'm in love with you. And don't for one second assume I'm playing some sick fucking joke to mess with your emotions. Because I'm not. I'm actually physically in love with you, no 'ifs', 'ands' or 'buts'. Who knew that when Eric was going off about how we were 'fags' for each other, a part of him would be correct? Well Kyle, I wish everything didn't have to end like this. I wish we were in a perfect world, where you would love me back and I didn't have a stomach full of pills. **But nothing is ever perfect, now is it? **_

Here is where I end this tear stained, piss poor excuse of a 'Suicide note',

Yours truly, _**Stanley Randall Marsh.**_

* * *

_'I've got an impulse so repulsive that it burns. I wanna break your heart until it makes your stomach turn. I got to know if you're the one that got away, even though it was never meant to be'_ Stay the night _—_Green Day.

I Literally lived off that song while writing this, And I have to admit, I got a little bit emotional.

So, For a first fanfic, I'd say I'm pretty damn proud.

But You tell me, Did You like it? love it? R&R!

~TuckerCraig


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